The Simple Truth
by hagaren22
Summary: When Harry accidentally sees Draco stealing a mysterious object, he decides to follow him and atone for his past transgressions. But will he get involved in more than he wants to? Post HBP, HD slash


Chapter 1

_(He knew from the beginning that this had to be the end._

_There was nothing ever in his mind besides this ending, and that was all right. This was beautiful._

_The only thing he regretted was waking up every morning for so, so long and wishing he had not._

_He knew from the beginning that his would have to be the end. There is no ending to life except death._

_But somehow there is no ending he could think of that could have been more full of life_.)

----

**13th July 2001 **

Harry took one look at him, and closed his eyes in disgust, wand pointed at the other man's throat.

"You thought you could manipulate me, didn't you? That you could use me like one of your Death Eater friends?" The only emotion in Harry's voice was pure, cold hatred, starkly contrasting with the heat of the warm July night.

Blank gray eyes met his brilliant green ones.

"What do you want me to say, Potter? That I'm sorry? Never." He laughed, cruel and not the least bit remorseful, even if he was at the mercy of the wand at his throat.

"Exactly. Never. You'll never get to betray anyone again. You'll never get to destroy anyone ever again. You'll never destroy me again." Harry replied, eyes shining with a mysterious passion.

The gray eyes looking into his mirrored the same feeling. Green met gray for a split second, and then Harry looked away.

Suddenly the green wasn't just in Harry's eyes, it was in the air. A beam of the magnificent green light flew out of his wand, straight into the man's heart.

Harry closed his eyes now, unable to look at the man now crumpled on the floor. Instead, he turned around, facing the Ministry of Magic building. "I've done it," he said, so quietly and gently. "I've killed Malfoy."

He took a deep breath and walked into the building, sparing only a quick glance behind him at what appeared to be a dead Draco Malfoy, lying in a darkened alleyway.

A small smile played on his lips, his head spinning from the weight and meaning spell he had just cast.

Things weren't going to be easy. But at least this way…maybe he had a chance.

Maybe Draco had a chance.

----

**17 days earlier: 26 June 2001**

Harry Potter was assigned a mission one warm Thursday night in June. There was a suspicious bar in Knockturn Alley, a suspected Death Eater hideout. He was to observe the place, just for an hour, and then report back to the Ministry. Using his observations, they'd decide what to do from there. This mission could result in leads that could help the Ministry finally discover Voldemort's whereabouts.

He sat for an hour, invisible, recording everything he saw (which turned out not to be much) in a small black notebook, and then stood up to walk into Diagon Alley; from there he could Apparate to the Ministry. He sighed at a wasted mission.

Harry glanced up as he slowly made his way down the cobbled street, a slight breeze tingling his face. The sky was somehow darker from this street, much more so than in Diagon Alley. He walked a few steps further until he was almost at the exit to Knockturn Alley, when a great gust of wind overtook him, slapping his face to the right. And that was when he saw something he knew he shouldn't have, or at least wasn't supposed to.

Draco Malfoy was tearing down the street, holding a small, dark jar in his hands. Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Draco worked for the Ministry too, but that didn't exactly give Harry a reason to trust him. "Malfoy, what's that you've got?" he said with a slight sneer.

Malfoy looked completely stricken. "Potter…" he whispered, stopping beside him.

"Glad you remember my name, now tell me what you've got there." Harry said coolly, pointing down to the jar in Draco's hands.

"Like I'd tell you," he said coldly.

He made to continue walking, but Harry stepped into his path. "You're up to something, Malfoy, you always are. And this time I'm not letting you get away with it."

Draco tilted his head to the side slightly, as if considering something. "I know you don't want to be cursed, Potter, so you best move." There was a slight edge to his voice, hinting almost to desperation.

"You're kidding, right?" Harry laughed.

Almost dreamily, Draco lifted his want to Harry's chest said quietly, his voice shaking, "I didn't want this, Potter." And then, even quieter he whispered, "_Mutus_."

The words echoed dully around the alley for only Draco to hear, a blast of orange light having hit a startled Harry squarely in the chest. He was so surprised at Malfoy's sudden gentleness he didn't even have time to react.

Draco took a deep breath. "That Potter can't take a curse. I _know_ that one's not supposed to knock you out…" he mumbled, slipping the jar into the pocket of his robes and hoisting Harry over his shoulders, grumbling a bit about how heavy Potter was, even after a lightening spell.

He didn't really want Harry Potter in his apartment, but it appeared to be the only choice left open to him. He'd have to be around Harry when he woke up, and he was certainly not going to wait for that in Knockturn Alley. Especially not with what he was carrying tonight.

So, resignedly, he carried him to his flat in London, hoping against hope that the curse had worked the way it was supposed to.

----

Harry regained consciousness early that morning, yawning as beams of dim morning light hit his face. There was something wrong with the bed he was lying on. His sheets weren't ordinarily quite so…soft. Opening his eyes really didn't improve matters because his glasses weren't on and everything was just a blur. He shook his head, trying to clear the sleepiness out of his mind. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

He reached out to his bedside table, surprised to notice it was farther away from the bed than he remembered. After feeling around for his glasses and slipping them on, he almost fell off the bed. "This isn't my room," he whispered under his breath. A great feeling of unease was starting to grow in him as the previous night flashed into his mind. 

"Well of course this isn't your room, Potter, you haven't half the taste in furniture I do," Malfoy smirked at him from the doorway.

"Malfoy," Harry growled, anger leaping up inside him as he shot from the bed. "What the fuck did you do to me!"

"What a dirty mind you have, Potter! But rest assured, I wouldn't touch you if you _paid_ me." The smile on his lips broadened a little.

"_Malfoy,"_ Harry said as venomously as he could possibly manage. "_What did you do to me?_"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and hissed, "You can't blame it on me, Potter, I can't control that you always meddle in other people's business."

Harry narrowed his eyes too. "Last night, you had something when you were running, didn't you? What, did you steal it? Were you running from some sort of justice?"

"Hmm," Draco mused, eyes still narrowed. "Did you even see what I stole?" He seemed to be inviting a challenge.

Harry merely glared at him. How could Malfoy believe that Harry wouldn't tell the whole world about what Draco was most likely doing, which was probably linked to the jar he was cradling last night. And yet he still seemed so relaxed… "It was—" Harry began, but couldn't finish. He tried again, panic creeping into his voice. "You had—"

"Ah!" Draco sounded pleased. "So you can't talk about, can you?"

"Don't fuck with me, Malfoy," Harry yelled, completely furious. "It was your cu-….your cu--…_you bas_—"

Draco cut him off this time. "Amazing, Potter, you're more clever than I thought." He sounded far too amused by this situation for Harry's comfort. "You'll find that you can't speak of the event or the fact that you were hit by a curse. If you care to, you'll also find that not even Veritaserum or Legilimancy can break this curse. In fact, there isn't even a known counter yet." He flashed his smug smile again.

"A curse? Since when was I hit by a curse," he growled.

Malfoy's harsh laughter filled his ears. "Since last night, if you remember." He smiled derisively and whispered, in a mocking tone, "_Mutus._"

Harry could hardly breath as the sudden memory of Malfoy whispering that, immediately before he blacked out. Without another word, he pushed past Malfoy and out the door of his flat, filled with rage and a sort of terror. "Do close the door on your way out," Malfoy drawled after him.

Harry seethed the entire way to the Ministry building, trying to put his thoughts in order. Malfoy had cursed him. He couldn't talk about, or about that jar of Malfoy's. And Malfoy was definitely up to something very serious having to do with the jar, but Harry could only wonder what was in it and what it was for.

Frustrated at his confusion, Harry's thoughts drifted to the curse he was supposedly under. He hadn't even heard of a curse like this before. Maybe he would come up with a something if he researched, but then again he had never been very good at that sort of thing. Usually he just left it up to Hermione. Even if he didn't, she tended to help him a lot anyway.

"_If only I could tell Hermione about this curse thing,"_ he thought with a scowl. Hermione was the one who figured things out, who found clues and then solved the cases. Harry was much more of a field agent. He preferred doing things to solving things. Back in what was supposed to be his 7th year at Hogwarts, Hermione had been the one to track down Voldemort's horcruxes, while Harry only figured out how to obtain and destroy them.

This thought sent a flurry of bad memories into Harry's mind. He had destroyed the horcruxes. And then Snape had tried to kill Voldemort. Harry hadn't even been able to help. And Snape had paid for his actions, with his death. Harry hadn't even been able to _help_. Snape wasn't a traitor and they were all wrong, but more than anyone else, Harry was wrong. He was supposed to kill Voldemort. _He_ was supposed to tear his soul, even to die for killing Voldemort. But Voldemort was not dead and his followers were not dead and the world wasn't looking any better at all.

And now the world had lost faith in Harry, and he had even lost faith in himself. Still, though, he had to at least try some more. Voldemort couldn't possibly be _invincible_…or could he have finally succeeded at even that?

Malfoy…Malfoy had somehow gotten his charges of being a Death Eater repealed. For some bureaucratic reason he was allowed a low-level Ministry position where he couldn't cause harm. In fact, Harry supposed, the Ministry probably only hired him because he was still on good terms with many Death Eaters, and that could be a very useful asset, supposing he didn't know too much about Ministry affairs.

The Order had long disbanded. With Voldemort as alive as ever and Harry as completely useless, there was no clear source of hope and no clear leader to give them any. Everybody was already grieving from the losses they had suffered. Ron had died. Charlie had died.. Tonks had been so seriously injured it seemed she could never work as an auror again. Dumbledore was gone long before the final fight took place. And he couldn't even think about Ginny anymore. He was too terrified to.

Harry shuddered slightly at the memory of Malfoy the night Dumbledore had been killed. Malfoy had retained his innocence, while Harry had lost his, in a twisted sort of way. He had ran after Snape with the intent to kill, not caring about the repercussions or Dumbledore's silly wishes. The world was falling apart, starting with Dumbledore's death, and he had known that then. It was only ten times more obvious now.

His thoughts moved back towards the present. Malfoy had cursed him and was up to something big and probably dangerous. Furthermore, he couldn't even tell anyone about it. That would mean it was up to him, as the only person who knew of Malfoy's treachery, to make sure he did nothing that could endanger their cause again. To make sure he didn't turn back to Voldemort with whatever he was so intent on hiding from the Ministry and Harry. It was his responsibility. He would follow him around, stalk him, whatever it took to just be sure Malfoy didn't sell Harry's entire side out.

He had somehow failed at his responsibilities so many times before now, he just had to succeed with this one. He just had to.

"Harry, are you alright?" said a voice very close to him. He looked around, suddenly realizing he was standing by his desk in the Ministry, although he had no idea how he had gotten there. As usual he had been carried off into his thoughts. He looked up at the women speaking and realized it was Hermione.

"Yeah, yeah Hermione. I'm just a little tired," he said without conviction.

Hermione seemed to notice his tone. "Harry, if you're not all right I could probably postpone the meeting for a little while, so you can get yourself together," she said in a careworn voice. The last three years had been hard on her, too.

"No, I'm fine, really." Hermione seemed completely unconvinced but nodded and started to walk away anyway. Then a sudden thought occurred to Harry. The only data that had been released about their section of the Ministry's next project was that they would be partnered up and have to go on some information-gathering missions, which seemed to be the only kind the Ministry was willing to let them go on these days. Since almost all the aurors had been wounded or killed, their branch now acted as unofficial, untrained aurors. The Ministry was so short on field-agents that they wouldn't even send them on _real_ missions anymore, for fear of losing more.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry shouted after her, an idea taking a sudden, exciting hold on his mind.

She stopped mid-step and turned around. "Yes, Harry?"

A manipulative grin spread across his face. "Hey, Hermione…" he said as sweetly as he could manage. "I know you help assign people to some of the projects, and well.."

"Yes, Harry, what do you want," she said sharply. Apparently the manipulative grin hadn't passed unnoticed.

"Well, it's just I _know_ Malfoy's up to something and—"

Hermione cut him off. "Harry dear, you thought Malfoy was up to something _every year_ in school! You can't keep falling back on old rivalries!" She sounded exasperated.

"Hermione, I know, but it's not like that! Please, I want to be paired with him for just this assignment. I only want to keep an eye on him. Where's the harm in that?" He felt more like saying _I only _have_ to keep an eye on him,_ but was slightly afraid to.

She sighed but a smile had crept onto her face. "Alright, alright, Harry. But only because I haven't seen you this passionate in years."

Harry smiled back weakly. Nice of her to remind him about his shortcomings. "Thanks, Hermione." He said it just a little sarcastically, but apparently she got the idea.

"Alright, well, the meeting debriefing you on the observations you took last night is in half an hour, and you should get your partner assignments by eleven," she said in a motherly tone.

Harry's mouth dropped open at Hermione's words. "Debriefing….on my observations…?" he said faintly. A terrible feeling was rapidly appearing somewhere in his stomach.

"Yes, Harry. You did take some, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Harry snapped, although the horrible sinking feeling in his stomach didn't go away. He was now madly shuffling through the things on his desk and searching through the pockets of his robes. To his horror, the notebook he had recorded everything in wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Oh, Harry, you didn't _lose_ them!" she said.

"Well, not on purpose!" he cried back, still frantically re-searching everything.

"You know what'll happen if you don't have a written record! They'll do…Oh, I don't know what. Something terrible! Try and retrace your steps in your mind!" she said in a concerned tone.

His face suddenly changed from that of worry to anger. "Fucking Malfoy," he hissed.

Almost on cue, a slow drawl emanated from the entrance to Harry's office. "Looking for this, Potter?"

Both Hermione's and Harry's heads snapped over to where Malfoy was standing by the door, holding a small, black notebook.

At the blank expression on Hermione's face, Draco smirked. "You left this on my bed."

A look of horror crossed both Hermione's and Harry's faces at once. Harry was first to speak. "Give it here, Malfoy," he snarled.

Draco laughed. "What, do you think I'd want to keep it or something? Ickle Potter's diary?" He tossed the book onto Harry's desk and left without another word.

Hermione was looking rather stunned. "You, er…left it on his bed?" she said in a small voice.

Harry scowled. "I hate him. I absolutely loathe him. He's a liar and a prick and a traitor."

Hermione blinked. "But he said you had left it on his bed."

Harry's scowl deepened. "And _I _said he's a liar!" he shouted.

Hermione simply shrugged. "Well, if you really want to partner with him." There was a hint of something suggestive in her voice that made Harry want to throttle something.

Draco Malfoy was disgusting and it was bad enough that he had to partner with him, but to _follow him around_? Now that would be hell. And yet some part of his mind knew he had to do it, to redeem himself. To take responsibility for something, any little thing, in this big mess. To help however he could and make up for how badly he had failed already.

Two hours later the debriefing was over and Harry was sitting idly back at his desk, waiting for him and Malfoy to receive their partner assignments for the next project. "_Hopefully the project will be easy,"_ Harry thought apprehensively, although he somewhat suspected he wasn't just taking on one new project today.

Malfoy was unpleasantly surprised when he received who he would be working with. Harry was grimly determined.

----

**A/N: this submission is pending on schnoogle...so...er...um...**

**haha, i'm speechless.this kinda sucks, but hopefully it'll get better. i can tell you now, the ending is gonna be awesome, so please keep reading!**

**i feed on reviews! any concrit is greatly appreciated!**


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